


Domestic Bliss

by pascaler23



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Farting, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pascaler23/pseuds/pascaler23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of little moments of Johnlock married life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock doesn't do this.
> 
> But when he does, Mycroft does it more than him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This happened to my friend and I had to Sherlock things up.
> 
> Enjoy!

John knew that Sherlock didn't come to bed to sleep. Sherlock almost never slept (except if it was after a rather intense shagging). He knew that Sherlock only lied down with him to be close to John. And the doctor wasn't about to complain; it was marvelous. The brunet’s body was relaxed against his, all that tension he always carried with him gone. He was snoring slightly (even though the man would deny it forever). His hair was a mess, the dark shade such a contrast with the milky white of the pillow. His features were loose, mouth slightly open. He always pressed his cold nose against John’s neck and his feet against John’s calves (and they were bloody big and freezing!), but the blond was never going to complain about that if it meant he had that amazing man snuggled against him. He loved just how much Sherlock wrapped himself around him like an octopus. How Sherlock craved physical contact, how John wanted nothing more in the world than to provide it. He knew how Sherlock had been lonely before he arrived in his life, and he wanted to make up for that in any ay he could. John nuzzled Sherlock’s hair, inhaling that soft smell that he now always identified with the detective. What was his brand of shampoo again? It smelled marvelous. This man was so amazingly brilliant, beautiful and elegant in every way, and John snuggled a little closer, a soft smile of contentment on his lips.

Then suddenly, the sound of a fart.

He felt Sherlock freezing in his arms.

The man batted his eyelids a few times, then his eyes opened wide, and he looked down at the bedsheets as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. His cheeks bore an adorable shade of red.

John froze too, but by surprise.

“Sherlock?” he asked with an amused tone, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Yes?” the man answered, not quite sounding like his usual confident self.

“Did you just fart?” Because the man was never going to admit it unless it was pulled out of him.

“Of course I didn’t. I don’t  _fart_. You imagined it in your sleep.”

“Sherlock, I felt the vibrations.”

The man turned his face into the mattress.

“That imagery was disgusting.”

“So you admit it?” John asked, and Sherlock absolutely hated how pleased he sounded with himself.

“You fart all the time.”

“Yes, and I assume it.”

“I always assume myself.”

“So you assume your fart?”

“The word ‘fart’ lacks of class. You should say flatulence.”

“Changing the subject." A pause. "You know farting is natural, right? No need to be ashamed.”

“I’m never ashamed.”

“Course you’re not.”

Sherlock looked up at him in the dark, hesitating for half a second. “Mycroft farts more than I do,” he blurted out.

John giggled. “Considering how much he eats, I’m sure that’s true.”

“I only farted because you took me to that Mexican restaurant and forced me to eat. This is entirely your fault.”

“What a bad husband I make, making you eat,” John sighed dramatically.

“It’s alright, you have other qualities to compensate.”

John smiled, amused,  and dropped a kiss to the detective’s brow, closing his eyes.

  
Sherlock suddenly started to fart on a regular basis after that incident.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated! :)
> 
> Find me on http://canoe23.tumblr.com


End file.
